Chapter 34

I was on pins and needles the entire drive to work, and the feeling only worsened once I arrived. I lingered in the parking lot as long as I could, and then, with a dragging step, slowly trudged toward the building and went inside. The inner hallway that connected the entrance to the various law and medical offices looked like something straight out of a horror movie: long, drawn out, and looming, the kind that seemed to go on forever.

Sighing, I shook my head. Talk about being overdramatic.

"Get it together, Christine," I chided myself softly. "You have no one to blame but yourself."

Yep. And now it was time to man up and face the consequences.

But when Jake walked in a few moments later, wrapped in a warm calf-length camel-color trench coat and that dazzling blue muffler, and nodded a warm greeting to Alejandra and me, my heart lurched in my chest, and I felt my resolve begin to falter. Was I crazy to give this up? Maybe Maddie was right. Maybe I really was just getting cold feet. Maybe if we too things slow, and—

Gah! Listen to yourself! Stop trying to rationalize everything just because you're afraid to be alone!

I paused.

Is that what I was doing? Trying to convince myself to settle for someone I only had lukewarm feelings for because it was far better than being single and alone? Had my divorce with Ben really fucked me up that bad that I had to glob onto the first guy who showed interest in me? I sucked in a breath. Was that what I was doing with Erik?

No. I refused to even entertain that thought. It didn't really matter in the end after all since Erik was technically off-limits anyway.

Thankfully, my prediction about being super busy had come true and for the next little bit I was too swamped with juggling incoming phone calls to schedule or cancel appointments and checking people in that I didn't have time to think about anything else.

Before I knew it (and definitely before I was ready), Alejandra was shutting down her computer for the night. Monday had come and gone in the blink of an eye. Normally, I would be ecstatic about how fast the workday had flown by, but right now the only thing feeling I was currently experiencing was dread.

"Are you coming, Chris?" she asked, tossing her pretty black hair over her shoulder so she could gather the stack of patient files she had on the desk in front of her. Tapping them against the desktop to straighten them into a neat stack, she deposited them in the "to file" basket behind us and then turned to me expectantly.

"Uh…not yet," I replied as my mind scrambled to find a plausible excuse to stay behind. "I wanted to talk to Dr. Stevenson about taking some time off for the holidays. You go ahead and I'll lock up."

"Okay," she said. She grabbed her coat off the back of her chair and rummaged through the pockets to find her car keys. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

She left without a backward glance. I listened to the muted sounds of her heels clicking against the carpeted hallway and a few seconds later I heard the double doors open and close. I let out a shaky breath. Okay. It was now or never.

Feigning more courage than I actually felt, I stood, pausing to brush some invisible lint from my shirt, and then headed off in the direction of Jake's office.

He looked up when I rapped the back of my hand on his open door and smiled softly when he saw me standing there, although I could see from where I stood that that smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Christine," Jake said. "I was hoping you'd come talk to me." He stood and came around to the front of his desk, where he hiked one of his legs up and sat casually on the corner.

I inched further into the room.

"You have no idea how many times I wanted to call you," he confessed, no doubt trying to fill the awkward silence with small talk. "How many times I dialed your number only to back out at the last minute. I figured you needed space, and I hoped that when you felt ready, you would seek me out."

The fact that I was standing in his office of my own accord apparently lent weight to his theory, because he relaxed a bit. Poor guy. I figured he'd probably guessed this was coming but looking at him now and seeing the anxious hope in his eyes, I was suddenly overcome with the urge to back out of his office and run straight to my car without a backward glance.

No! I had to stay strong. I could do this.

"Yeah…about that."

"If you think we're moving too fast, we can totally back things down," he interjected. "I know things got a little out of control the other night. I didn't mean to push you. I would never do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, you know that, right?"

Nodding, I quietly replied, "I know. It's not just that…."

Whatever remained of Jake's smile evaporated and was instead replaced by a worried frown.

"Christine…."

"No." I held up my hand. "I can't do this, Jake. Your dad's right: it's inappropriate and it's irresponsible of us to pursue a relationship together."

"You heard that?"

I nodded again.

Jake swore under his breath, but whatever he said was too quiet for me to hear. "No wonder you were quiet the rest of the time at my parents' house. I'm sorry you had to hear that. But you have to realize that's just one man's opinion."

"Come on, Jake," I sighed, shaking my head. "You know that's not true. He had some very valid points. It's not worth risking your career and your license."

"It's not like you're one of my patients," he countered.

"No, but I am an employee. It's still an ethical gray area and you know it."

He got up and closed the gap between us, gathering my hands into his. "I appreciate your concern for my career, but I know what I'm doing. I care about you, Christine. Doesn't that mean anything?" I bit my lip and dropped my gaze to the floor. Hooking his right index finger underneath my chin, he lifted my face so that he could once again stare into my eyes. "Do you hear what I'm saying? I love you, Christine. I'm not about to give you up without a fight."

I broke then. My vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears, and moments later they were streaming down my cheeks. How long had I waited to hear someone say those words to me? Too long. I hadn't wanted to admit it, but big part of me was scared that after my divorce, I'd never hear them again.

"Jake…."

"Don't. Just…don't say anything yet." He threaded his right hand back around mine and squeezed both of them tighter. "Please. Give me a chance to prove to you that I can be professional before you make your decision. Please."

Against my better judgment, I felt myself nodding.

Something was wrong.

I'd had a restless feeling all day, and try as I might, I could not identify where it was coming from. It gnawed at me relentlessly, intensifying as the day stretched on, tickling the edges of my consciousness like an itch I just couldn't scratch. Music had provided a distraction for a while, but as the hours passed and transformed morning into afternoon and afternoon into evening, my agitation only seemed to grow stronger. By the time the sun had set I had abandoned all thought of playing and had taken to pacing in the small walkway between the staircase and the back of the sofa.

My thoughts inexorably turned to Christine and her hurried exit from the house this morning. At first, I'd assumed my restlessness was the result of lingering guilt from having carried her upstairs without her knowledge. However, our encounter before she left this morning had all but assuaged any fears that she'd been displeased with me. The look on her face and her hand upon my arm had done much to ease my conscience. And yet, there was something else there, lingering just underneath the surface, an anxiousness within her that I realized only too late had nothing to do with me.

I couldn't quite comprehend the sudden mysterious and overwhelming desire to go to her, but once I'd identified the feeling it was next to impossible to ignore it. I made it to the front door before I came to my senses, my hand frozen on the doorknob. I'd followed her before, but those few times had all been on occasions that had warranted it. The medium, the symphony, the cemetery. I had been invited. Or, at the very least, expected. If I went to her now, acting on nothing more than a hunch, and discovered that I had grossly misinterpreted—or worse, conjured up those feelings of distress—then I could very well be intruding upon a moment that she would have rather kept private. Stumbling upon her in the arms of her lover was the last thing I wanted to do.

Reluctantly, I turned around with the full intention of going back to the piano and forcing myself to focus on my music. Christine would be home soon enough, and if she wanted to talk about her day, I would be there, ready and willing to listen.

A heavy sigh and the sound of something thumping against the door caught my attention, pulling me out of my thoughts. In a flash, I wheeled around and sprinted to the door, wrenching it open. I barely had time to register that Christine was on the porch before she fell into my arms.

I drove home in silence, my conversation with Jake weighing heavily on my mind. My insides were tied in knots, my stomach somersaulting with emotions that I didn't even know how to begin to sort out. I couldn't help feeling like I'd been played and manipulated, like I was nothing more than a puppet on string that had danced right into Jake's little fantasy, with little to no consideration of what I wanted in the matter. But there was also a small part of me that was overjoyed. Someone loved me. He'd said it out loud, had begged and pleaded with me to reconsider. How could I argue with that? Wasn't this what I wanted? To be loved and desired again? To have a man who was willing to fight for me instead of running away at the first sign of trouble.

I got as far as trudging up the icy, snow-laden steps and inserting my key into the deadbolt to unlock the door before my thoughts overwhelmed me and the tears of angry confusion threatened to start all over again. I stood there under the shadowy overhang of my porch and sucked in several deep breaths in an attempt to keep them at bay. Was I crazy to throw away this chance to be with a truly decent, living, breathing guy for a ghost who didn't—couldn't—love me in return?

Exhaling, I let my forehead fall against the large wooden door. Jesus Christ, I was a fucking mess.

Without warning, the door suddenly gave way, instantly throwing me off balance. I let out a startled yelp as I stumbled forward, dropping my purse and keys in the process as I blindly threw my hands in front of me to brace myself against the inevitable fall. But instead of striking the ground, my face instead collided with the hard wall of Erik's chest. His arms automatically circled around me as he took a step back to weather the impact, holding me close to him to keep me from slipping through his grasp and falling all the way to the floor.

The musky smell of mahogany and cedarwood overloaded my senses. My head was spinning. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, as much to stave off the sudden rush of dizziness as it was to take his heady scent into my lungs a second time.

"Christine!" he cried, apparently just as surprised as I was. He slid his hands around to cup my shoulders and gently pushed me back. "Are you alright?"

Bracing my hands against his forearms, I glanced up at him. The sight of his warm eyes blazing brightly in the dark and the feeling of his strong hands gripping my shoulders made my heart squeeze and I immediately forgot all about my horrible and trying day. Smiling back at him, I nodded. "Yeah. Fancy meeting you here."

I felt the muscles in his forearms relax as his lips pulled into a hesitant grin. "I heard you approach and then heard a loud thump. I was worried you may have fallen."

"Oh. That." I bit my lip and promptly directed my gaze to the floor. "Let's just say it's been a very long, very difficult, day."

"Say no more," he replied. Without another word, Erik slid his hand into mine and he led me into the front room and over to the couch. Placing the palm of his other hand against the small of my back, he gently angled me around and directed me to sit down. "Would you like me to make you so tea?"

Warmth exploded in my chest, filling me with a wonderful mixture of giddiness and contentment. It made me delightfully light-headed and short of breath all at the same time. "Yes, please."

Erik nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Letting my head fall back against the couch cushion, I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the water running and the bottom of the metal kettle clinking against the stove. It was funny how quickly and easily he could pull me out of my funk, and how his presence could make even the darkest day just a little bit brighter.

My phone rang, the ringtone muffled between my butt and the couch cushions. Shifting my weight, I pulled it out of my back pocket and glanced at the screen.

Maddie.

I swiped to answer it. "Hello?"

"So?" she demanded, skipping any sort of greeting to launch right into interrogation mode. "How did it go? What happened?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you 'don't know?'"

"I—"

At that moment, Erik returned with my tea. Shifting the phone to my other hand, I reached out and took it from him, mouthing a silent 'thank you.' He nodded and quietly took a seat in the chair by the fireplace. My initial knee-jerk reaction was to downplay the details to Maddie while Erik was right there, but I had to remind myself that Erik wasn't interested in whether or not Jake and I were still an item, and so there wasn't really a point in hiding the facts from him.

"I tried," I said finally. "But he uh…he told me he loved me."

"He did what?"

"And then he asked me to give him a second chance."

"And did you tell him you don't love him back? Christine?" she prompted when I took too long to answer.

"No."

"Oh my god!" Maddie exclaimed. She let out a long, suffering sigh. "I'm calling in reinforcements. Let me grab Rochelle and we'll be right there."

"That's not necessary," I started to say, but she cut me off.

"Nope. Don't argue with me."

"All right," I relented. "But no alcohol. I'm not in the mood to drink tonight."

"Okay. We'll see you in a few minutes."

And then she hung up.

He told me he loved me.

My entire body went rigid upon hearing her utter those awful words. It felt as if a sharp knife had just plunged itself deep into my heart, and it was everything I could do to appear calm and disinterested on the outside, while on in the inside I felt like I was dying all over again.

I had known this was a possible eventuality. Damn it, I had accepted it. So why was I have such a hard time hearing it now?

It's happening all over again. You're losing her. Are you prepared to stand aside and support her decision and let her walk away?

Shoving down my spiraling thoughts, I shifted my focus back to Christine. While I couldn't hear the voice on the other end, it didn't take me long to notice that Christine's answers were becoming decidedly more despondent as conversation went on.

So, my feelings of restless unease had carried weight after all, I thought as she put the device down on the cushion next to her and scrubbed her palms over her face. Something had happened while she was gone.

Desperate to distract us both from this unpleasant revelation and bring back some of the light I had seen in her eyes only a few moments earlier, I asked, "Shall I play for you?"

She pulled her hands away from her face and smiled at me wistfully, but it was a pale imitation of the one that had graced her lips while I'd held her in my arms. "Ordinarily I would love that," she said with a tinge of sadness in her voice, "but my girlfriends are coming over in a few minutes."

"Perhaps later, then," I offered.

She nodded in response. Tucking her legs underneath her, she turned her attention to sipping her tea.

I hated this feeling of impotence and powerlessness that forced me to stay seated when what I longed to do was go to her and pull her close and coax another one of those breathtaking smiles from her beautiful lips.

Lost in my thoughts, I failed to hear that doorbell ring. Christine got up with a dragging step and went over to the door, pausing momentarily to scoop her satchel and keys from the floor and deposit them on the side table before opening the door. The blonde-haired woman—Maddie, I remembered from an earlier conversation with Christine—pushed her way over the threshold and threw her arms around Christine. I watched sullenly from the shadows to which I'd withdrawn, envious of the easy way Christine melted into her embrace. The darker-haired brunette woman followed suit, and then Christine motioned for them both to follow her into the living room.

"It looks really nice in here," Maddie commented as she lowered herself to the sofa. "Very festive."

"Thanks," Christine replied, situating herself in the chair I had just vacated.

Maddie tossed her long hair over her shoulder and then folded her hands on her knees expectantly. "Okay, start from the beginning. I haven't really told Rochelle much."

"No," Rochelle agreed, shaking her head. "I have no idea what's going on. Only that Maddie called and said that we were having an emergency girls' night. So, of course I dropped everything."

"From the beginning-beginning?" Christine asked.

Maddie nodded.

"Well, I went over to Jake's parents' house for Thanksgiving dinner and his mom was completely overbearing, and his dad…."

I made a mighty effort to tune her out and began to retreat from the living room. There was no need for me to eavesdrop on their conversation. She had her friends to comfort her, and I felt awkward and uncomfortable lingering. But the words she spoke next stopped me dead in my tracks.

"So, I went to work today fully intending to break up with him."

Slowly, I turned back around.

"What did you say to him, exactly?" Maddie inquired.

"I told him that his dad was right; it was unprofessional for us to be together and that I didn't want him to risk his career for me."

"And that's when he told you he loved you," Maddie said.

Ah. The desperate words of a desperate man, trying to hold on to something he knew was already lost. I was well-acquainted with that tactic.

"Yes. And practically begged me to give him another chance."

Rochelle's eyes widened and she let out an audible gasp. Maddie glanced over at her and nodded sharply. "Oh yeah, he did!"

"What did you say?" Rochelle asked Christine softly.

Christine shrugged. "What could I say?"

"How about, 'No. I don't love you,'" Maddie suggested.

I took a step forward, my eyes riveted to Christine, watching carefully as she seemed to shrink into herself.

"It's not that easy…. What if…what if I'm being too hasty? I mean, it's only been a couple of months. People don't fall in love that quickly."

Maddie tilted her head side to side in agreement and leaned forward to gather Christine's hands into her. "Okay. That's a valid point. But let me ask you this: do you feel that special giddy, lightheaded feeling when you think about him? Do you find yourself counting the minutes between texts and phone calls and keeping track of how many hours you have left until you can see him again?"

"No, not exactly, but I've also been more worried about the fact that we work together. I haven't really given our relationship a chance to blossom. I mean, he's good looking, successful, financially stable, and he cares about me. What more could a girl ask for?"

"To love him," Maddie retorted. "And you don't."

"But one day I might," Christine stubbornly argued back.

"No." Maddie shook her head resolutely. "No. If you have to talk yourself into it like that, then it's not love."

Christine's head reared up, her hazel eyes suddenly flashing with anger. "What the hell, Maddie?" she demanded hotly. "First you ignore my protests about dating my boss and set me up with him against my wishes, and now you're telling me I should definitely break up with him. I thought you of all people would be telling me that I just need to give it time! I don't get you!"

"Chris, you told me the other day that you didn't feel the same way about him that he did about you. And that was before he dropped the L-word on you. You said yourself that if you stayed with him that you'd just be leading him on and giving him false hope."

If I'd had a beating heart it would have surely been hammering itself against my chest at this point. She didn't love him.

"Honestly, I think it's kind of dirty and underhanded that he said that to you right after you made it clear that you didn't feel comfortable with the dual nature of your relationship," Rochelle quietly interjected.

"So, what? I'm just supposed to ignore the fact that I finally found a guy who's willing to fight to keep me?" Christine snapped.

Rochelle frowned. "If he truly cared for you, he would have told you he loved you before now, and not as a last-ditch effort to keep you from leaving him."

Maddie thrust her hand in Rochelle's direction. "Right? Thank you!"

Christine groaned and folded her arms across her chest, slumping down further in the armchair.

Rochelle stood up and walked over to lovingly pat her on the shoulder. "It's only been a year since you and Ben split up, Chris. No one says you have to fall in love and marry the first guy you date after your divorce. Give yourself some grace. Being single isn't the end of the world, and it's a whole lot better than being with a guy for the wrong reasons."

Christine let out a sigh and reached up to squeeze her hand. "I hear what you're saying."

"Are you going to tell him the truth, then?" Maddie asked.

"Yes," she grumbled begrudgingly.

"Good."

Eventually, their conversation turned to more feminine topics and I drifted back into the shadows to mull over all the information I'd gleaned tonight.

Maddie and Rochelle's little intervention aside, their visit ended up being a rather pleasant one. Once I'd assured them that I would break up with Jake for real this time, our conversations had shifted to more mundane subjects. We talked about Maddie's upcoming holiday trip with Eddie, the hope for great after-Christmas sales at our favorite stores, and our plans for New Year's Eve. Mine consisted of snuggling up on the couch listening to Erik play the piano after all full day of working in my kitchen together, but of course I left out the majority of those details when I relayed that information, for obvious reasons. It would be the second New Year's Eve that I spent at home rather than going out. Last year I had been in the middle of my divorce from Ben, and I hadn't felt much like partying. However, this year I didn't mind so much. I wasn't truly alone, after all. I was right where I wanted to be, with the person I wanted to be with the most.

Watching my two best friends debate which Christmas movies were considered classics and absolutely had to be watched every year, I was suddenly struck with how lucky I was. Here were two people who had been willing to drop everything at a moment's notice and come over here not only to make sure I was okay and cheer me up, but to keep me from making stupid decisions. Neither one of them were afraid to call me on my shit, and I loved them even more for it, even if it was something I didn't really want to hear.

"No, see, I had this conversation with Eddie last night," Maddie said. "He thinks Diehard is a Christmas movie."

"What? Diehard? No. That's not a Christmas movie. It's an action movie. Machine guns and hostage situations doesn't seem very Christmas-y to me," Rochelle retorted.

"Right? That's what I told him, but he was adamant. We finally had to agree to disagree."

"What do you think, Chris?" Rochelle asked, turning to me. "Christmas movie or not?"

"Oh, I don't know….," I said with a shrug. "I mean, it is set on Christmas Eve. But I don't really care either way. It's not like I watch a lot of Christmas movies, anyway." I gestured towards the windows and Christmas tree. "I don't own a TV to watch any of them."

"Hey." Rochelle straightened up, tilting her head quizzically to the side. "When did you get the keyboard?"

Shit.

"Oh, that? I…uh…I've had it for a little why now, I guess."

"I didn't know you played," Maddie said.

"I don't. I mean, I trying to learn. I figured it might be something fun to keep me occupied after I finish the kitchen. But I don't…all I know right now is like, a few simple scales and stuff."

Rochelle sat forward in her seat. "Really? That's awesome. Will you show us?"

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I felt the blood drain out of my face. Me and big-ass mouth. Why did I have to go and say something like that.

"Oh, no," I laughed nervously, waving my hand. "I'm not very good."

"Ah, come on, Chris. Please?" she begged.

Erik's quiet laughter reverberated in my ear. "Seems like you've gotten yourself into quite the predicament, my dear."

I pressed my lips into a tight, thin line and exhaled sharply through my nose, trying my very best to resist the urge to elbow him in the gut.

"Thankfully," he continued smugly, "I am here with a plan to help get you out of said predicament. Go over to the piano and sit down."

I twisted my head to look over my shoulder at him. Was he freaking serious?

"Trust me," he whispered.

'Trust him,' he said. God, I must be out of my mind to even be considering this. But I did trust him, and when he said it like that—all quiet and seductive-like—there was very little I wouldn't do if he commanded it.

"Okay."

Even so, I was shaking with apprehension as I walked across the room and took a seat on the bench. Erik positioned himself behind me and leaned forward, trapping me in the middle of his arms as he placed each of his hands on the keyboard. I briefly closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling of his chest pressed up against my back. He angled his head so that he could once again whisper in my ear, and when he did his bottom lip inadvertently brushed, ever-so-slightly, against my earlobe.

"Now, put your hands on top of mine and try to relax," he instructed. "I will play, and as long as you stay calm and follow my lead, it will appear as if you are the one playing. Understand?"

I nodded just enough that he knew I'd understood, but not enough for Maddie and Rochelle to notice. I set my hands on top of his, spreading out my fingers as best I could to match his position on the keys. Slowly, starting with his left hand, Erik began to work his way through a scale, altering his playing style so that it sounded like the notes were being played by someone with little to no experience. My fingers dipped in time with his as the notes we played transitioned from left to right and back again. All the while he kept his torso firmly pressed against my back, creating just enough delightful friction to be distracting.

Suddenly, one of his fingers slipped and hit the wrong key by mistake, sending out a discordant note that vibrated harshly around the otherwise silent room. I glanced up from my hands with a look of dismay.

"Your reaction was perfect," he chuckled softly. "We can't have this performance be too perfect, or it won't be believable."

I bit my lip and settled back against him. He'd thought of everything, it seemed.

All too soon, our little charade ended, and he pulled away, leaving me quite alone on the bench. I missed his nearness almost immediately. But I didn't have too much time to dwell on it, because Maddie and Rochelle both erupted into over-the-top applause as soon as the last note died around us.

"Wow, Chris," Maddie exclaimed. "I had no idea! Good job!"

"Thanks," I muttered, blushing.

"I think there's actually a musician hiding in there somewhere," Rochelle commented. "You should have seen your face."

"What do you mean?" I asked hesitantly. Had I been found out?

"Well," she explained, "you had your eyes closed, and even though what you were playing was really simple and basic, you could tell that you were really feeling every note you played. You were enjoying yourself and it was really fun to watch."

My blush deepened as I cast a sidelong glance toward Erik. His eyes glittered back conspiratorially.

Maddie's phone dinged on the coffee table and when she reached down to see what it was, her eyes widened in shock. "Oh geez, is it really eight-thirty already?" she cried.

"It is?" Rochelle sputtered, equally surprised.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I've got to get going. I've got work in the morning."

"Yeah, me too," Rochelle said.

"Me three." I got up from the piano and walked over to them, extending my arms. "But thank you so much for coming over tonight. I needed it."

Maddie accepted my hug warmly. "You're welcome. The three of us, we've got to stick together."

"That's right," Rochelle agreed, stepping up to give me a hug as soon as Maddie stepped back. "We're always here for each other, no matter what."

"Always," I replied. I waited for both of them to gather their bags and coats and then held the door open for them. "You guys drive safe. Thanks again."

Maddie squeezed my shoulder as she walked by. "Anytime. I'll check on you in a few days, and then we can all plan a day and time to get together for Christmas."

"Sounds good," I nodded. I waited for them to climb into Maddie's car and then waved and called out, "Night!"

Maddie and Rochelle both waved back and moments later Maddie backed out of the driveway.

Christine watched as her friends disappeared down the street and as soon as they were out of sight, she shut the door and spun around to face me.

"That was awesome!" she cried, thrusting her hands out as she ran toward me. I caught her hands in mine and held them while she bounced up and down. "Oh my god! I can't believe that actually worked! You…you were amazing!"

"You weren't too bad yourself," I replied, laughing at her exuberance. Her excitement was infectious. In that moment I felt positively giddy, both thrilled and astounded that the two of us had managed to pull something like that off without a hitch. "You may have a career as a musician yet."

"Don't hold your breath," she snorted. "But seriously. Thanks. You really saved my ass back there."

"Of course. It's what friends do, no?"

Something skittered across her face, darkening her pupils momentarily. It was gone almost as fast as it had appeared. Her reaction had been so fleeting that I almost wondered if I'd imagined it, but the change in her demeanor was tangible as she cleared her throat and pulled her hands out of my grasp.

"Right. Well, as Maddie pointed out, it's getting late, and I think the day's finally starting to catch up with me. I should probably try to go to bed early and actually get some sleep."

"A very good idea," I said. I bowed my head in her direction. "Good night, Christine."

A little bit of the light returned to her eyes as she smiled softly. "Good night, Erik."

Later, as I lingered in her doorway to watch her sleep once again, I thought about everything that had happened that night. My head was still spinning. I'd held her in my arms so many times in the past few days, and every time that I did and she didn't shy away from my touch only made me want to do it even more. I'd tried to be good, tried to tell myself that I was simply imagining the way her body responded to mine, that it wasn't right to make advances because her heart belonged to another. But tonight, her friends had all but dispelled one of my reasons for hesitating and not allowing myself to grow even closer to her.

My hand tightened on the doorframe. She didn't love him. She didn't love him, and she was going to end their relationship. With that obstacle out of the way and my conscience clear to pursue her, there was only one hurdle left: could she ever find it in her heart to love a disfigured Opera Ghost?

A/N: For the record, I absolutely think Diehard is a Christmas movie, and I will die upon that hill. :)